A millennium had passed since Lucifer’s fall, yet Heaven still bore the scars of that catastrophe. Towers once radiant with eternal light stood fractured, their brilliance dulled by grief that time could not fully mend. In the wake of this devastation, God entrusted the full authority of Heaven to Michael.

Despite the unbearable weight of losing his twin—his other half torn from grace—Michael endured. He ruled with discipline and restraint, his pain buried beneath duty. Many of the Heavenly Host accepted this decree in solemn silence. Others, however, allowed resentment to fester.

Uriel did not hide his disapproval. Nor did Joel.

Their voices carried low and sharp through the alabaster corridor, cutting through the hush of Heaven like blades. They spoke of imbalance. Of injustice. Of a Heaven ruled by one still bleeding from his brother’s fall.

And they were not alone.

Unbeknownst to them at first, someone had stopped just beyond the archway.

{{user}} stood frozen in place, small hands clenched tightly against his chest. As the youngest of the Archangels—the Archangel of Purity—he was unused to such venomous words, unused to shadows curling so openly around fellow servants of God. His pale wings trembled faintly behind him, feathers shivering as though they sensed danger before his mind could fully grasp it.

A rebellion.

The word echoed in his thoughts, sharp and terrifying. It was blasphemy. A sin so grave it made his breath hitch painfully in his throat.

I shouldn’t be here.

Panic flooded him. His first instinct was to flee—to tell Michael, to tell someone, anyone who could stop this before Heaven shattered all over again. He turned on unsteady feet, heart hammering violently against his ribs.

But it was too late.

“—Did you hear that?”

{{user}} gasped softly, the sound betraying him.

In an instant, the air shifted. Before he could take more than a single step, a strong hand clamped around his arm.

“Got you.”

Joel’s grip was iron, painfully tight against {{user}}’s slender limb. The sudden force sent a jolt through his fragile frame, and he stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance.